(My office phone rings and I answer it. The voice on the other line sounds like it belongs to an elderly gentleman who may be hard of hearing.)

Me: “Hello, [Prison]. This is [My Name].”

Caller: “Hi. Yes, this is [Caller] from [Small, Rural Town] and I need a duck license.”

Me: “I am sorry, sir?”

Caller: “I need a duck license. I know I can get one on the Internet, but the Internet is not good out here in [Small, Rural Town].”

Me: “Sir, I think you got the wrong number.”

Caller: “We have so many ducks out here. I need a duck license. I know I can get them on the Internet, but I can’t use the Internet so I need you to help me with a duck license.”

Me: “Sir, you have called the wrong number. This is the penitentiary.”

Caller: “You see there are so many ducks around here. So I need your help with a license…”

Me: “Sir, you have the wrong number.”

Caller: “… and I need it because there are so many ducks and I need a license to shoot them…”

Me: “Sir? I think you wanted fish and game.”

Caller: “… but I can’t get on the Internet, so I need you to give me a license.”

Me: “Sir, you have the wrong number. This is the penitentiary.”

Caller: “The what? Who did I call?”

Me: “You called the prison, sir.”

Caller: “Oh, you can’t help me at all then…”

Me: “Let me get you the number to fish and game.”

(He was very nice and appreciative, and his wrong number made my day!)

(I work at a frozen yogurt shop. I’m serving two parents and their young son. I hand the son his spoon and notice he’s holding a plush toy of Luigi, from the Mario series of Nintendo games.)

Me: *quietly* “Luigi!”

Boy: “How did you know his name?”

Me: “Because he’s a character from a video game. A very famous video game!”

(I wasn’t sure how to interpret the look the boy gave me as he left the counter, but he almost seemed either suspicious, skeptical, or confused. I, for one, wonder how *he* found out about Luigi, if not from the games!)

This story is part of the Mario-themed roundup!

Read the next Mario-themed roundup story!

Read the Mario-themed roundup!

(I am working the register at a craft store. We are getting close to closing time, and make announcements over the PA system about every five minutes or so, warning customers to finish their purchases. About once a month there is a customer who comes in and wanders right up until the closing time before she comes to the register. Being at register one, I am the last cashier to close my till and have to wait until we’ve finished helping every customer that was in the store before we close the doors.)

Me: “Did you find everything all right tonight, ma’am?”

Customer: *sighs* “I suppose.”

(As I ring up her purchases, she grabs a weekly ad from beside my register.)

Customer: “Ooh, spring items are 40% off. Can I go look really fast before you finish ringing me up?”

Me: “Ma’am, we’re closed.”

Customer: “I’ll be quick.”

Me: “Ma’am, you have already looked back there. We are closed, and as soon as I’m done with your transaction I am closing my till. If you’d like to take a look at our spring sale, you can come back tomorrow morning. We open at 10 am.”

Customer: “I just want one item. I promise I’ll be quick.”

(We are 15 minutes past closing, all my coworkers have closed their tills and cleaned up their respective areas, and are standing up at the front waiting, since we all have to leave the store together.)

Me: “Ma’am, we are closed. And your total is [amount].”

(The customer pays and trundles out of the store, finally.)

Manager: “Way to be firm. I thought I was going to have to drag her out of the store.”

(I work the front desk night shift at our hotel, and one of my duties is to set up breakfast and make sure it is fully stocked until I clock out in the morning. I’m a young transgender woman and I’ve only informed the general manager of that fact. As far as I know neither my coworkers nor any guests can tell. I am restocking the sausage patties when this happens.)

Guest: “Oh, so you’re the one who cooks up all the breakfast, eh?”

Me: *smiles* “Yup, that’s me!”

(I quickly break away from the encounter to wrap up my shift. Soon enough my coworker is just about ready to let me go for the day, when the same guest from before passes by, spots me, and smiles.)

Guest: “There’s the sausage queen!”

Me: *speechless*

Coworker: *chuckles* “Sorry, the 12-year-old in me just had to laugh at that!”

Me: “They may never know just how funny that truly was.”

(I’ve been in a wheelchair for several years and am still pretty independent. Unfortunately there are times the chair can be a real pain. I broke down on the interstate on my daily commute and do not have a cell phone. As a result I am wheeling myself down the I-35 shoulder headed to the closest gas station when a DPS unit pulls up behind me. I was very tired since the shoulder of an interstate is not the easiest surface for me to go long distances. When I see the cop something just reminds me of a routine traffic stop, which I find hilarious.)

Me: “Don’t bother asking for my license or proof of insurance for my chair, as I have neither.”

(The cop looked confused for a second, and then burst out laughing.)